


Another Freaky Friday Story

by SockWantsToDie



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Freaky Friday - Freeform, I Don't Even Know, Pennywise (IT) Being an Asshole, Slow To Update, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 14:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15708780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SockWantsToDie/pseuds/SockWantsToDie
Summary: [Victor Criss x Female Reader]Vic and I aren't really that happy with our positions in life, so after wishing to be anyone else, we wake up in each other's bodies; and it's a total shit show.





	1. Pre-Switch, His Morning

I trudge into shithole central, carelessly shoving the doors open. Nobody pays much of us attention as we all walk in. Patrick staying quiet as he scanned the hallways, quickly breaking off to hit on some random cheerleader he'd spotted. Meanwhile, Henry and Belch were arguing over cars or something, which prompts me to roll my eyes from how heated it seemed to be getting.

Instead of eavesdropping, I pay attention more to getting to our usual spot. I shove my way through the crowd of people, not in the mood for any extra bullshit since Patrick decided to wake me up in the most unpleasant way possible.

By shoving me off the bed.

I grit my teeth and clench my fists. He knew how much I loathed being touched, but he always does it anyway. If it were anyone else I'd probably chalk it up to some sort of schoolgirl crush, but it's Patrick. So, that's pretty much the only explanation I need.

"Damn, Vic." Belch suddenly says 

His words were probably prompted by how he spotted me shoving a particular member of the Losers Club against the lockers and out of my way.

"Not today, Belch." I hiss

Belch backs off and we approach our spots, taking our usual stances. Patrick joins us shortly after, his arm hooked around the waist of some preppy cheerleader I didn't know the name of, and honestly didn't care to.

"You seem bitter this morning," Patrick comments

"Only because you shoved me off my bed." I spit harshly

"You weren't waking up." He shrugs with a snicker

This prompts a giggle from the cheerleader as his hand moves down to cup one of her ass cheeks. She swats him playfully.

"So, don't shove me out of bed, cocksweater!" I snap

"But it's more fun that way."

I snarl and take a step towards him, about to right hook the motherfucker into next week, when his attention is pulled away from me. He grins, and swats the girl's ass.

"I got some business to attend to, sweetheart." He dismisses her "Go back to your friends."

She smiles at him and pecks his cheek giddily before going back to her fellow preppy whores. Patrick disappears into a small flock of students, and pulls out a girl he often targeted.

I think her name was [First Name] or something, and she was pretty short and overall pretty filled out, despite the baggy clothes she always wears. But I only really notice her because she was almost always making googly eyes at me whenever she saw me.

She looks at him terrified as he talks to her. He was obviously trying to get a bit handsy, which starts to erk me. Since I knew exactly what it was like to get targeted by him.

Reluctanly and with a scoff, I push myself off the lockers I was leaning on and walk over to him.

Reluctanly and with a scoff, I push myself off the lockers I was leaning on and walk over to him.

"Leave her alone, Patrick." I interrupt

Patrick and [First Name] turn their attention to me. Patrick's smile was still spread across his long ass horse face, and [First Name] looked almost awestruck.

"Aw, I was just teasing her, Vic." Patrick drawls

I ignore his statement and blow a strand of loose hair out of my face. I glance over at the girl, who was doing the googly eyes thing at me.

"Quit making googly eyes at me." I snap

She hides her face behind her books as I reach over and grab Patrick by the arm.

"Since when did you become cock-block central?" Henry comments

I leave Patrick to stay in the place he had been originally standing in.

"Since Patrick started hanging out with us." I fire back, crudely

Henry just snarls at my tone as I step back into my usual spot. We all turn our attention to [First Name], who glances between all of us, looking dumbfounded.

Honestly if I didn't know any better I'd figure she was trying to size us all up. But she was skiddish as fuck.

"What're you staring at?" Henry hisses "Scram, rat."

She fumbles around for a response before stupidly saluting to him. She continues on to run off down the hallway, dipping into another random group of students.

I sigh inwardly as the others start in on discussing plans for the day, figuring out if we were all gonna skip or not.

What I would give if I could be somebody else for awhile.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

I glance around, slightly disturbed.

"Whats up, Vic?" Belch questions me "You look like you just saw a ghost."

I turn my gaze back to him and gruffly wave him off, dismissing any and all questions from him. He asked way too many.


	2. Pre-Switch, Her Morning

I stumble into school, almost tripping over my own two feet numerous times. People turn their judgemental gazes to stare at an incredibly disheveled me. My eyes widen for a brief moment as I selfconciously hide my face behind my books. Richie had already abandoned me to go be with his friends to school, so I was pretty much left alone. This caused me to wake up 20 minutes late for school and my dad still needed to pump up the tires on my bike, so I had to sprint to school.

Whispers surround me as I smooth out my hair, tucking a loose strand behind my ear as my face goes red. I awkwardly shuffle through the crowd of people, barely making it to my locker when I'm abruptly tripped.

Laughs surround me as I hurridly gather up my notes and books into a pile in my arms. I stumble up to my feet and adjust my oversized college sweatshirt that dad had lended me. I adjust my glasses so they're better perched up on my nose and continue my way down the hallway. My eyes scan the area sneakily as I walk, looking for a certain group of boys so I knew when I needed to go shadow mode.

My eyes land on the back of a lanky boy's black long haired head. My eyes widen as I hurry to join a small group of students who were making their way down the hallway.

A hand suddenly grabs my upper arm and yabks me out of it. I let out a soft squeal as I bump into a certain lanky boy's chest.

"Sweetheart, you don't gotta hide from me." He tells me

I peak up at the schools psychopath, Patrick Hockstetter nervously. I shudder in pure discomfort as he licks his lips suggestively.

"I don't bite unless I'm asked to." He flirts with a wink.

"Leave her alone, Patrick."

Patrick and I turn to the owner of the voice. My eyes sparkle once they land on Victor Criss, the school's angsty pretty boy. He was everything I wanted to be, confident, cool, fashionable.

"Aw, I was just teasing her Vic" Patrick tells him

Victor glances over at me and scoffs.

"Quit makin' googly eyes at me." He snaps

My face goes red as I stutter out a shy apology to him. Victor doesn't seem to pay attention to it though, since he focused on blowing a loose strand of bleach blonde hair away from his face before reaching out to grab Patrick, tugging him away from me.

"Since when did you become cock-block central?" Henry Bowers cuts in

"Since Patrick started hanging out with us." He shoots back, crudely

I stand there, looking from each boy back and forth. Henry Bowers, Belch Huggins, Patrick Hockstetter, and.. Victor Criss.

"What're you staring at?" Henry hisses "Scram, rat."

I nod and fumble out a response, which happened to be saluting him before taking off down the hallway. I duck into another group of students, the previous events running through my mind as I think about what I little hitch I acted like compared to him.

I sigh softly.

I wish I could be him, just to feel what it's like to not be a total loser.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

Whoa what the holy hell?

I look around skiddishly, trying to figure out what I just heard and where it came from. But decide on just booking it to my locker so I could just finish up my day and go the hell home.


	3. Day 1, Her

“Wake up, [First Name]”

My eyes flutter open. Seems my alarm hadn't gone off and Richie forgot to wake me again. I glance over at the clock, slightly panicked, but I relax once I see I woke up at a decent time. I sit up out of bed and yawn, stretching my arms out so I could regain the feeling in them. I groggily scratch an itchy spot on my arm and push myself out of bed.

Wait a minute.

I glance around wildly, panic once again rising in me.

This isn't my room.

I catch a glimpse of my pale hands and move them to extend them out, turning them over. My mouth opens wide as I let out what can only be described as a squeak of fear. I glance around, my eyes landing on a tall mirror, I book it over to the mirror, almost tripping and falling into it.

I watch closely, letting out another squeak as I stare into the eyes of the person staring back at me. I slap my hands over random parts of my body, glancing around wildly.

"Holy fuck!" I shout "I'm Victor!"

I wrap my hands around my throat, shocked at the voice that I was currently speaking with. My door opens and a scruffy boy peaks in.

"Yeah, Vic. We know." He tells me, annoyed "Why're you up so early? Your faggy friends usually have to wake you up."

I stand there, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. He scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"You better not be like this all day." He tells me, pointing an accusing finger at me

"But I'm always like this." I fire back without thinking

"Sure you are, Vicky." He snorts "Don't get your panties up in a bunch. Anyways, I'm gonna go get breakfast."

I grab a random thing off my desk and chuck it at him like I usually do with Richie as the stranger disappears behind the door.

"They're not up in a bunch, fuckface!" I shout defensively

And he doesn't return, which I'm really thankful for. He was kind of a dick. If he's Victor's brother like I think he is, then I totally understand why Vic's so angsty all the time. Big brothers are real asshats sometimes.

Slowly, my eyes drift back to the mirror I was standing in front of. I touch random spots on my face, getting a feel of what my face. His-I mean-my skin was really smooth and soft, I really wanna know what moisturizer he uses, because this is the best feeling ever. As I continue feeling around, my mouth falls into an 'o' shape once I touch his-er-my? Ah screw it. His cheekbones.

"These are the best cheekbones in the entire history if everything ever!" I whisper to myself, purely amazed

I continue feeling around, touching my exposed breastless chest. I hook a finger around the elastic of my sweatpants and stare into the mirror, I pull them away and let them slap back against my skin.

"He's so skinny." I mumble to myself

Wait.

I look around suspciously, before hooking a finger around the front elastic of the sweatpants and the briefs, extending it out. Shyly, I peak down, only to immediately let go once I see my new genetalia. My face heats and I slap a hand over my face, turning my head away. Even more shyly, I peak at the mirror, seeing the blush that spread from cheek to cheek and over my nose. I throw my arms up in the air.

"He even blushes cute!" I exclaim, a bit louder "Why can't I be this cute!"

I stomp my food childishly and turn away from the mirror, crossing my arms over my chest and pushing my bottom lip out in a pout. My eyes float over to his neat dresser, and I grow curious. I hesitantly approach it and place my hand on the top right drawers handle. I take a deep breath and tug it open, my face heating further as I throw myself away from the now revealed underwear. I land back on the floor, rubbing my sore lower back.

My door bursts open, and in walks Patrick Hockstetter, who licks his lips creepily like he always does when I catch him staring at me. I cringe.

"I'm surprised you're up this early." He comments

Patrick rolls his eyes, which prompts them to drift over to my opened drawer. He leans against the doorway and smiles, casually reaching over and plucking a random pair of white briefs out of the drawer. I stumble up to my feet and grab a plush pillow from my bed, tossing it at him. Patrick was mid-sniff but managed to dodge my attack and instead shuts the door.

"I'll be outside!"

"The hell you will!" I shout

I book it over to the door and lock it, so that no more intruders would randomly bust in again. I needed time to wrap my head around everything.

My eyes once again wander over to the open drawer, and I suck in a brave breath. I shuffle over, germaphobically picking up a random pair of briefs and holding it in front of my face.

But I don't think I'd get that time today.


	4. Day 1, Him

“Wake up, Victor.”

I groan and wave off nothing, but my alarm clock suddenly blasts through the morning air. I snarl and roll over, greedily yanking more fluffy blankets around me.

My eyes suddenly snap open.

Wait I don't own an alarm clock.

I flip over and shoot up out of bed, looking around at the bedroom I was in. This was not my bedroom. On impuslse, I glance over to my sides, checking for any random girls. But, there weren't any. I quickly stand up, feeling an unexpected jiggle in my chest area. I glance down, my long [hair color] hair falling over my shoulders as I notice the [chest size] rack in front of me.

Wait.

Wait what

Now inwardly having an existential crisis, I grab a small handful of hair between my fingers, extending my hand outward, yanking the hair to check if it was real. Patrick would occasionally pull a prank where he puts a wig on my head while I sleep so I freak out when I wake up.

"Ow!" I exclaim

I release the hair and slap a hand over my mouth. The voice that just come out of my mouth was not mine at all.

Actually, it kinda sounded like..

My eyes widen as I sprint out of the bedroom, throwing the door open so hard that I think I dented the wall. But I didn't care. I brush past Richie who was tiredly trudging down the hallway, rubbing his eyes, shoving him out of my way and against the wall.

"Jesus fucking Christ [First Name]! You gotta take a shit or what?"

"Suck my dick Trashmouth! I'm busy!"

"Don't call me Trashmouth! You know how much I hate it when Bowers and his fuckwad groupies call me that!" Richie shouts

But I had already locked myself in the bathroom, I let out a high-pitched scream that could probably shake the universe and break a window. I lean over the counter and reach out to touch the mirror, my other hand running along the curves of my face as I stand there having an internalizied meltdown.

"[First Name]?" Richie calls through the door

Richie knocks on the door, panicked.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

Okay, okay, okay. This is all a bad drug trip, right? Patrick got a hold of some crazy outlandish shit like he usually does, and gave it to us, and that's why I'm [First Name]. No reason to panic, right?

Yeah.

“No”

As the vision of some freaky ass clown takes over my-er-her reflection in the mirror, I shove myself off the counter. I stare, terrified at the weird clown.

“You got your wish. Now enjoy it, Vicky boy.”

The clown fades away and my reflection returns. Trashmouth is still banging on the door like a wild animal. I fumble around for an explanation for the worried sick Trashmouth that was currently on the other side of the door.

"[First Name]!"

"It's fine, Richie, I just uh.." I glance around the bathroom, my eyes locking onto the box of tampons on the shelf next to the bathtub and in front of the toilet.

"I.. um.. uh.. t-tampons!" I stumble over my words

"What?" Richie questions

"I got my.. period.. thingy." I tell him, discomfort rising in me as I continue fumbling "I just.. I got my period overnight. Had bad cramps."

"Thats fucking gross, [First Name]." He cringes

I unlock and open the door to reveal an uncomfortable Trashmouth. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Anyways, if your not all, knotted up, do you wanna walk to school with me and the others?" He suggests "I feel bad about ditching you yesterday."

I snarl, and shove past him.

"Like I'd ever walk with you and your loser buddies." I insult

I glance over my shoulder, noticing how Rich stares at me with wide eyes, looking like a hurt animal. I just scoff and continue trudging down the hallway before retreating back into [First Name]'s-uh-my, fuck it, our room.

I shut the door behind me and look around.

Okay, so I need to go to school.

Maybe I could find Patrick, tell him to wake me up when he gets off his own drug trip, cause that works, right?

I glance around the room, my eyes falling on a shabby closet. I glance down at my outfit, a baggy T-shirt, black stretchy shorts, and mismatched socks.

Okay, today was a school day, so maybe I would find him at school.

I slam a closed fist onto my opposite open palm, now determined.

Yes, perfect.

I walk over to the horribly disorganized closet and begin looking through different clothes. I rip things off of the racks and toss them behind me, making a mental note to tell the little thiccy rat that she needs to clean her shit when I get off this trip.

Wait no that would sound weird.

"I don't know you that well. I don't know what you're like. If you are looking for a beat down I can tell you that's not what I'm here for, but I will tell you that I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long period. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you clean your closet up now that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you, but if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you and I will organize your closet."

I snort, "yeah, that'll be the day"

I eventually settle on a nice pair of jeans with slits up the front of the legs all the way up the leg, a nice red cotton T-shirt with the Coca-Cola logo on it, a sports bra and some underwear that doesn't match.

After awkwardly dressing myself, avoiding looking at her body as I do so. I throw on some old ratty black and white converse and a black jacket that was missing the zipper. I refuse to look in any mirror to see how I looked, though from what I could tell I looked pretty good.

"I should have trips like this more often." I mutter

Now, off to find Patrick, figure out what he gave me this time, beat his ass, and tell him to wake me up when he's done tripping.

Cause that's totally how these things work, right?


End file.
